The Message | Page 2

pleasures, and
even the humors of the situation. My friend's countess had lighted a
cigar for him; mine made chocolate for me, and wrote to me every day
when we did not meet; his lady had come to spend three days with him
at the risk of ruin to her reputation; mine had done even better, or worse,
if you will have it so. Our countesses, moreover, were adored by their
husbands; these gentlemen were enslaved by the charm possessed by
every woman who loves; and, with even supererogatory simplicity,
afforded us that just sufficient spice of danger which increases pleasure.
Ah! how quickly the wind swept away our talk and our happy laughter!
When we reached Pouilly, I scanned my new friend with much interest,
and truly, it was not difficult to imagine him the hero of a very serious
love affair. Picture to yourselves a young man of middle height, but
very well proportioned, a bright, expressive face, dark hair, blue eyes,
moist lips, and white and even teeth. A certain not unbecoming pallor
still overspread his delicately cut features, and there were faint dark

circles about his eyes, as if he were recovering from an illness. Add,
furthermore, that he had white and shapely hands, of which he was as
careful as a pretty woman should be; add that he seemed to be very
well informed, and was decidedly clever, and it should not be difficult
for you to imagine that my traveling companion was more than worthy
of a countess. Indeed, many a girl might have wished for such a
husband, for he was a Vicomte with an income of twelve or fifteen
thousand livres, "to say nothing of expectations."
About a league out of Pouilly the coach was overturned. My luckless
comrade, thinking to save himself, jumped to the edge of a
newly-ploughed field, instead of following the fortunes of the vehicle
and clinging tightly to the roof, as I did. He either miscalculated in
some way, or he slipped; how it happened, I do not know, but the coach
fell over upon him, and he was crushed under it.
We carried him into a peasant's cottage, and there, amid the moans
wrung from him by horrible sufferings, he contrived to give me a
commission--a sacred task, in that it was laid upon me by a dying man's
last wish. Poor boy, all through his agony he was torturing himself in
his young simplicity of heart with the thought of the painful shock to
his mistress when she should suddenly read of his death in a newspaper.
He begged me to go myself to break the news to her. He bade me look
for a key which he wore on a ribbon about his neck. I found it half
buried in the flesh, but the dying boy did not utter a sound as I
extricated it as gently as possible from the wound which it had made.
He had scarcely given me the necessary directions--I was to go to his
home at La Charite-sur-Loire for his mistress' love-letters, which he
conjured me to return to her--when he grew speechless in the middle of
a sentence; but from his last gesture, I understood that the fatal key
would be my passport in his mother's house. It troubled him that he was
powerless to utter a single word to thank me, for of my wish to serve
him he had no doubt. He looked wistfully at me for a moment, then his
eyelids drooped in token of farewell, and his head sank, and he died.
His death was the only fatal accident caused by the overturn.
"But it was partly his own fault," the coachman said to me.
At La Charite, I executed the poor fellow's dying wishes. His mother
was away from home, which in a manner was fortunate for me.
Nevertheless, I had to assuage the grief of an old woman-servant, who

staggered back at the tidings of her young master's death, and sank
half-dead into a chair when she saw the blood-stained key. But I had
another and more dreadful sorrow to think of, the sorrow of a woman
who had lost her last love; so I left the old woman to her prosopopeia,
and carried off the precious correspondence, carefully sealed by my
friend of the day.
The Countess' chateau was some eight leagues beyond Moulins, and
then there was some distance to walk across country. So it was not
exactly an easy matter to deliver my message. For divers reasons into
which I need not enter, I had barely sufficient money to take me to
Moulins. However, my youthful enthusiasm determined to hasten
thither on foot as fast as possible. Bad news travels swiftly, and I
wished to be first at the chateau. I